


Hunting Ghosts

by vdova



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bucky get the crap beat out of him, BuckyNat Mini-Bang, Buckynat Mini-Bang 2016, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 16:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6476851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vdova/pseuds/vdova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vampire/Werewolf AU. Natasha, a vampire since she earned the title of 'Black Widow', has spent half a century thinking she'd killed the man she loved. But when someone stumbles upon what appears to be her old trainer, she doesn't even think twice before going after the ghost. But could it really be him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunting Ghosts

Daylight hadn’t been Natasha’s friend since the mid-50s, but that hadn’t stopped her from enjoying tea under the shade of the patio umbrella. Modern science really was quite amazing; full body skin coverings could look like nothing but a slight sheen, protecting all but her eyes from the cursed sun. And those only needed a pair of sunglasses, which she had many a pair of. It was almost like the sun just didn’t bother her at all.  
“Going for the ‘European Woman’ look? Because you’re missing the cigarette.”  


Natasha looked up through her oversized sunglasses, cocking a brow at the blonde that was smirking down at her. “I thought we agreed you at least text me when you’re visiting, Bobbi. I don’t even have any pretentious tea sandwiches for you. I’ll have to ring the maid.”  


The overly sarcastic comment earned Natasha a chuckle while Bobbi pulled a chair to the table and curled up in it. “You know I like surprising you. Besides, last time I called ahead, you had enough food to feed a small army. I don’t know how much food you think I eat, but I’m almost flattered you think that buffet was anywhere near close a single meal.” Bobbi reached over and plucked the book from Natasha’s hand, quirking a brow at the cover before dropping it out of the red head’s reach. “Most people go somewhere tropical when they’re on vacation, not in their backyard. At least I didn’t catch you reading report files.”  


Natasha snorted, leaning back in her chair and shooting Bobbi a disgruntled look, “I’m not most people. This doesn’t read like a friendly visit to me, so how about you cut to the chase and tell me why Hill sent you? I thought I said no distractions during vacation.”  


The abrupt change of tone caused Bobbi to open her mouth for a moment before snapping it shut, jutting her lips out in a pout, “Fine, if you want to do it that way, we can be all work and no pleasure.” She tugged a large folder out of her bag, dropping it in front of the other woman, “Don’t blame Hill for this one. She was going to wait until you got back to give you this, but I came across the file and knew I needed to bring it to your attention.”  


There was a stunned moment of silence between the pair before Natasha all but tore her sunglasses off her face and picked the file up, eyes clouded with confusion. Her mouth opened for a few brief seconds before her choked voice finally came out, “Morse. Tell me where you found this. Because I swear I burned every last thing that’s in this damn file.”  


Bobbi’s response started with a tight smile and a heavy sigh, “SHIELD made a copy before you got a hold of it. I’m sorry, I would have told you sooner, but I didn’t think anything would come of it. The only people who know this exists are people who know about your past. I c-”  


Natasha cut her off with a closed fist and her attention returning to the file, flipping it open to the cover documents that she’d written nearly half a century before. The first picture caused her to sigh, fingers brushing over the face of the man who trained her to be who she was, “Red Room reports told me he was in his 20s. Obviously know now that’s a lie.”  


“He’s also not dead, ‘Tash,” Bobbi said quietly, gently taking the file from Natasha’s hands to turn to the new document in the back, “Twenty two hours ago, Steve had a run in with someone fitting this description. Security footage backs it up,” she gently turned Natasha’s face to look at her, “Bucky is alive. And he really doesn’t look much different from the picture you submitted with your initial report.”  


It felt like the world had turned sideways and no one told her. Natasha’s mouth hung open in shock, staring at Bobbi for a near solid minute before turning her attention back to the report she’d never seen before. “But I saw him bleed out. Felt his lack of a pulse. I… smelled the life drain out of him. I killed him.” It had been decades, and she could still remember the moment his eyes went glassy. The moment she realized what the Red Room had turned her into. “I can still taste his blood.”  


Bobbi edged closer, wrapping an arm around Natasha’s shoulders in a show of support. After waiting a few moments to see if she was going to be pushed away, she spoke, “You can’t start thinking you’re a monster because of this, not again.”  


They both knew Natasha mostly just wore a brave face when she talked about getting over her past. It had been too many years to mull it over and over and try and reason with what she’d done. There was only so many ways she could say ‘I’m a vampire’ before she would finally accept what she’d been made after earning the rank of Black Widow. Killing the man who trained her had supposedly been an accident, but after digging out the Red Room’s dirty laundry, she’d realized it had probably been on purpose- he’d outgrown his usefulness once she fully turned. One last loose end.  


And the only people who would miss him were frozen in ice or his murderer.  


“If there’s even a chance that James is still alive, I have to find him. And if it isn’t him, then I’ll bring in this imposter. It might be another ploy from my home country to get me back.” Losing her had been a hard hit to Russia, for more reasons than just missing a top operative. They’d kept their secret for years, letting other’s think their beautiful, deadly spies were just trained and raised that way. But young Natalia defecting took her curse and showed the American government what they were dealing with. Including helping them take down the beings that were no longer human.  


Bobbi leaned back in her seat, a small smile on her face, “I expected nothing less from you. And I’m sure you’re going to tell me no when I offer to come with.”  


Natasha shook her head, red eyes glancing over the report one last time before closing the file, “I need to do this alone. I need you back at base, on call, in case I need information. You’re one of the only people I can trust, and I know full well that Rogers has gotten himself tangled up in this already.”  


The pair chuckled as the conversation melted out of Natasha’s long thought dead trainer and into better topics. Bobbi stuck around until the sun had gone down, allowing Natasha to ditch the collapsible skin covering and hat she’d thrown on to prevent herself from getting fried. They eventually said their goodbyes, with Natasha vanishing back into her house and Bobbi heading back to base.  


Once inside, the vampire spread the file she’d been given out over the floor, looking for even the slightest clue as to how she’d missed James being alive for so many years, and better yet, how he still looked the same. She knew enough about the process of turning someone into a vampire (considering that’s what they’d done to her the moment she earned her rank of Black Widow), but it had involved drinking blood from the vampire who drank from her. A blood swap. She’d been too panicked after attacking her mentor to even consider that, and by the time the thought crossed her mind, it was too late. Her hand clutched one sheet of paper hard enough for it to tear and crumple under her grasp. There wasn’t anything even remotely helpful in the file. As much as she cared about Rogers, he was a shit report writer, considering the fact that his report was mostly gibberish. The only thing even resembling a lead was that her target had vanished into the warehouse district. Large, open buildings had always been a favorite of the Room when she’d been training there- lots of ways in and out. Once she closed the radius down to a reasonable space, Natasha threw her long coat on (Bobbi had always bothered her about her ‘aesthetic’ of being a ‘creature of the night’. But she’d also backed it up with a Burberry trench coat, and who was Natasha to turn that down), tucked her pistol into the holster that was ever present on her thigh, and headed out into the cool night.  


The warehouse district wasn’t a place that she’d frequented, save for chasing the rare baddie that took off into the area. There weren’t enough people to help her blend in and the metallic smells of rusted out shipping containers left her sense of smell horribly overwhelmed. For some reason the stench was worse than usual, causing Natasha to wrap her scarf around her nose and mouth. It smelled like dozens of people had been killed weeks before and the blood was left to dry, causing her head to swim. After a few minutes of no movement and nearly getting lost between two of the warehouses, something occurred to her- the smell might have been different because someone knew she was coming. Natasha’s eyes went wide when she realized this, and not a moment later, she watched as shadows shifted on the other side of yard from her. It was a ruse; someone was after her.  


There was no time to dwell on if James was actually alive or if that had been a ploy to get her out there, since she heard dozens of footsteps surrounding her. She yanked her scarf off, nose catching the scent of what exactly was hiding under the smell of rust and blood- animal fur. Her eyes went wide as a pair of yellow eyes stared at her from the shadow of a nearby building, a muzzle slowly coming into view. Natasha made a move to step backwards, but she heard growling behind her as well. In just a few seconds, the vampire was completely surrounded by werewolves.  


A sound moved throughout the group, almost like laughter but in a far more twisted sense. A gruff voice came from within the ground, sending a chill down her spine, “If I knew that would be all it took to corner the great Black Widow, I’d have done this years ago.”  


Natasha frowned, searching through the crowd of beasts in search of the one that had spoken. The things all looked the same, but then, so did every single werewolf she’d ever encountered. They looked mostly like large dogs, though size and coloration varied. Their faces still had the unsettling human like features that had churned her stomach the first time one had pinned her. Eyes that held human like expressions kept her in place, though she finally picked the one that had spoken out of the crowd. She made a tutting noise, all of her anxiety and fear squashed down when she realized who she was talking to, “Leo Novokov. How am I not surprised that the first time I go looking for James, I have to deal with you?” her voice was dripping with disdain, and upon realizing who she was dealing with, a growing sense of superiority. “You really must be afraid of me if you have to call out your entire mangy family.”  


The creature she’d singled out trotted forward from the back of his pack, dark eyes flashing with anger, “I will not be mocked, Romanoff. Take her.”  


She’d never faced such a large group of her species’ foes, but she’d expected them to be at least slightly disorganized. No sooner had Leo spoken, however, there was a wave of beasts leaping at her. Natasha barely had enough time to react, her eyes going pure black and canines growing to an impossible length. But these weren’t some rogue operatives from a terrorist cell and she hadn’t fought one of their kind in the better part of the decade. The first one in range was punched square in the nose (enough to disorient, not enough to incapacitate), the second kicked in the chest, and the next she grabbed around the neck and attempted to sink her fangs into. It was like trying to feed off concrete, with the solid skin giving her nothing but resistance. The shook set her off guard enough for two more to slam against her back and throw her to the ground, knocking her unconscious.  


Natasha woke up with a splitting headache and a moment of confusion before realization washed over her. She groaned, burying her aching head in her hands. Her surroundings seemed to be that of a stone dungeon, complete with wrought iron bars and incessant dripping of water. The pounding in her head was distracting enough, but then a far off sounding fuzz started up, as if someone had left a broken television on a few hundred feet away. The sound started to echo until Natasha finally realized that it was her com going off; the stupid werewolves hadn’t noticed the small device within her ear. Bobbi’s voice crackled to life as her hearing finally started working again, causing Natasha’s head to snap up and look around to see if anyone was around.  


“I’m here,” she murmured, eyes searching the dank hallway outside her cell, “I got jumped by someone from my past. I think the Red Room had some sort of werewolf project going because there were dozens of the creatures. I’m in some kind of basement. No idea where since they knocked me out.” She heard footsteps and shouting. Someone was coming, and she doubted they’d like her calling for help. “I left a map on my table with a drawn radius I was looking over. Start there, I’m-”  


She didn’t get a chance to finish her statement as the side of her head was grabbed through the bars and cold fingers yanked her com out of her ear, the sound of crushed electronics following a moment later. Natasha was pitched back onto the stone ground, face stinging from the rough treatment. Red eyes looked up to see the human form of the man she’d insulted earlier. “I have no idea who you were calling, but they won’t be able to save you.”  


“Why aren’t I dead, Leo?” she shot back, voice a mix between bored and irritated. It took more than a harsh face grab and a snide comment to unsettle her. “Wasn’t that your ploy? Lure me in, off me? Or did your kind already forget that it takes more than a few bite marks to hurt me.” Natasha held her arms off, the sleeves of her precious coat having been torn away during the attack. The skin beneath was flawless, however, with not a single scratch or bruise from the assault. “Forget your stakes?”  


The line of probing and insults caused the man to growl lowly before slamming a fist against the bars of her cell, the sound reverberating through the small space, “I could cut you down where you stand right now, but you’re meant for something bigger than your pathetic existence could ever hope to understand. Keep your head about you, Romanoff. We’ll be needing it.” With that vague yet dramatic line, Leo turned and left, leaving Natasha alone again with only the water drip to keep her company.  


Or so she thought.  


The sound of rustling fabric caused her to jerk her head up and look around, ears straining for the direction of the sound. A faint “Hello?” told her it was probably another prisoner, and she mashed her face against the bars to try and see who it was. A shadow moved into the light across the way from her with a bedraggled but familiar face watching her. Natasha’s eyes widened.  


“James!” her voice came out somewhere between a choked sob and a sigh of relief, the inflection not entirely something she’d heard come from her own mouth before. Seeing him, alive, caused all other thought to leave her mind. He might have looked like death warmed over, but he was also breathing.  


The look he was giving her looked like confusion and shock mixed together, and for a moment, she thought he had no idea who she was. “Natalia?” his voice broke on her name, a voice that was void of hope and full of pain. “They… told me you were dead. How are you here?”  


The realization that James, the man who had trained her so many years ago, had no idea what the Red Room did to their girls hit Natasha like a ton of bricks. She’d seen promising girls ‘die’, only to be turned. Her first day as a vampire had been the day she’d thought she’d kill him; something else had been going on, and she was now starting to think Leo had something to do with it. “Considering the last time I saw you I was standing over your very dead looking body, I could ask you the same thing.” Her head cocked to the side, forehead pressed against the cool iron bars. “Do you remember that? The day I earned the rank of Widow?”  


Bucky looked blankly at her for a half second of panic, but then nodded slowly, “…yes. We were celebrating. I thought you looked different, but I couldn’t place why, and...,” he trailed off, eyes going wide, “…you attacked me. Your face changed to something dark, like a monster out of a fairy tale, and you bit me. I passed out from blood loss and when I woke up, they told me you’d died from some experimental process. No body or anything. They put me back in cryo not long after, and I woke up a few months ago.”  


Natasha’s mouth gaped open; he’d been asleep for the 50 years. For him, it was like no time had passed. He’d spent months thinking her dead; she’d spent a lifetime. There was a tinge of jealousy coloring her joy of seeing him again, but she shooed it away. He looked like hell and she wasn’t about to add to it with some petty anger over the circumstances that had been shoved on him. “Is this… with Leo being here, is this some kind of Russian plot? Take out US operatives and wreak havoc?”  


Only after she spoke did Natasha realize she’d side stepped the question about how she was there. Their cells were far enough apart that there was no way he could see her blood red eyes or sense how cold her skin was, but he’d always been more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for. But the conversation moved away from how she’d survived and onto their current captor. “Leo was also put in cryo. He got out and took the rest of us with him, which is-”  


“Those werewolves were all Red Room operatives?” Natasha cut in, completely horrified. In all her years of trying to dig the room out at the roots, she’d never once encountered a mention of werewolves. Even the vampire Widows bit had been in files, though buried and in code most of the time. Yet not once was any sort of experimentation mentioned on the male operatives. There had been missing files, and apparently she’d been attacked by what they were trying to hide. Too consumed with her own disgust and horror in her previous masters, Natasha missed the look on Bucky’s face.  


“You… know? About what they did to…us?” her eyes shot up to see the look of pure pain on her previous trainers face. The last syllable had been spoken in a whisper normal ears would have never been able to hear, but her ears hadn’t been normal since before they’d last seen each other.  


Realization washed over her like a flood, fingers that had been wrapped around the bars releasing as she backed away slowly. She’d smelled the dirty, musty scent of wolf from the moment she woke up, but she’d thought it had more to do with her captors than with her fellow prisoner. “What did they do to you?” she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper. “Is… is that how you survived?”  


Bucky nodded solemnly, “I was turned around the time I was recruited. Most of the trainers and some of the agents were werewolves. Increased strength, heightened senses, things that made us better operatives. The curse was why night ops were a rarity- the brighter the moon, the more likely we are to transform. After a while you can control it at will, but it takes most people years. I had it under control in five months. Maybe it was the conditioning or the mind wipes or something else, I don’t know, all I know is I could turn into a wolf when the moon was out.” He sighed heavily, sitting back on his heels. “By your reaction, I doubt that’s what happened to you. Were you part of the secret Widow thing that I’d hear whispers about? They never told us what it was, though we had our theories.”  


There was no side stepping the question this time, but she figured a show instead of tell was a good idea. Natasha closed her eyes and rolled her neck, dropping forward with a feral growl. Her eyes shot open, pitch block and cold, fangs extending until they sat over her lower lip. Bucky jerked back from the bars in shock, the terrified look in his eyes enough to make her turn away and change back to her human appearance. “That’s what they don’t tell you, about the Red Room. The beautiful killers they breed, that seem more than human, aren’t human. Not any longer. The moment you receive the rank of Black Widow, you die. They take your humanity away. The final insult after becoming a Widow. It’s the last thing they could take from most people, but not for me. They knew about you and I; told me as much before I got out.” She risked a look across the way, but she could no longer see him. He’d moved to the back of his cell. “They probably let us meet up that day because they knew I’d kill you. Newborns are more blood thirsty. It’s like… waking up after a coma and needing water. They thought that killing you would drive my loyalties. I left the country three days later.”  


There was a solid minute of dead air between the two of them before Bucky started laughing. “When I went to sleep, I thought I was a beast created by a depraved group of Russian mad men. Turns out we live in a world of monsters.”  


Natasha knew it was a general statement, but it was hard not to be hurt by the comment. She’d thought herself a monster after trying to look in a mirror for the first time, no matter how many times her allies tried to tell her otherwise. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Natasha murmured, more to herself than anything. She’d spent their time apart trying to be human. Part of her was starting to realize that was never going to happen. Especially if whatever Leo was planning came to fruition.  


As if summoned by her thoughts, the sound of footsteps on stone hit Natasha’s ears. She scrambled to her feet, not wanting to be caught off guard again. This time, their captor wasn’t alone, with two other men flanking his sides. From the stench of them, Natasha could tell they were also werewolves, which caused her to move to the back of her cell. The iron bars might have been silly, but they at least gave her enough peace of mind that the men couldn’t get to her through them. She knew they were strong, but so was she, and even after all the years of training she couldn’t bend wrought iron. “I see you two had your little reunion. Good; means you can both die happy.”  


Red eyes flicked to look at Bucky, who was wearing an expression of confusion. Whatever was going on, Leo hadn’t told his other captive. “The big scary bad man shtick doesn’t work on you,” Natasha drawled, her voice sounding bored while her nerves were on high alert, “How about you just tell us the plan? You’re clearly confident that we won’t be getting out of here.” Her plan already had a glitch in it, anyways, what with her long lost lover sitting about 20 feet away from her. She trusted Bobbi to be able to get them both out, but there was still a high chance of failure. One that she didn’t want to dwell on.  


It always surprised Natasha to watch werewolves moving while in their human forms. Some of them (like apparently Bucky) had learned to move like normal humans. But most, like Leo, still moved like a dog had been poured into a human body, and no one told the creature. His center remained ridged when he slammed against the bars of her cell, eyes flashing dangerously. Her move back meant he didn’t get a single reaction out of her, other than one of her brows raising. “Patience, Widow. You and your lover will find out exactly what we have planned for you soon. But first,” Leo held a hand out through the bars, and Natasha felt herself suddenly being drug forward. The sensation was akin to some gripping her hips and jerking her, but there was nothing physical touching her body. Leo’s face contorted into a mock look of superiority, and she knew her face read as scared. “Interesting, right? Turns out we weren’t just used as wolves; some of us have powers. Our prior masters had no idea what they were messing with, too concerned with their precious Widow who took off after being given such a blessing.” Leo’s hand gripped around Natasha’s neck, squeezing enough that breathing would have been impossible. Good thing vampires didn’t breath. The look on her face went from terrified to belligerent, lips setting in a firm line. “I show you this and you think you can still beat me? Typical. They never really beat sense into you girls. No matter now; you’ll finally serve a final purpose to the people who gave you everything you have.”  


Natasha had some quip about all the people who actually helped her were either or dead or working for the same people she was employed with, but the sudden appearance of powers had her at a slight loss for words. Her expression was finally under control, and apparently Leo took her silence as some kind of silent form of rebellion, considering she was flung back and slammed against the wall a moment later. The action had her head spinning (headaches: something even being vampire couldn’t prevent), but not so much that she didn’t hear that god awful laugh. It’s like the man had never had friends who told him to cool it with the maniacal laughter… but then again, she doubted he had friends. The thought brought a smile to her lips, and after she finally got to her feet and brushed the dust off her pants, she grinned up at the man who was staring down at her, “I left you people behind half a century ago, and it’s taken this long to even get me in your custody. Whatever you have planned? I’m sure it won’t work out the way you think.” She’d been taken down evil men’s plans longer than most of her coworkers had been breathing; the confidence she exuded on her usual missions was starting to show back up.  


Leo’s lips pulled back in what could have been mistaken for a sadistic smile, if not for the fact that he was actually growling. Not even just a low rumble, but a full on growl. Their current location had no windows or view of the outside world, and something told Natasha the sun had gone down. Already she was trying to figure out an escape plan (turn the guards against Leo? Maybe she could chew through the bars. No, that was a terrible idea) when the door to her cell raised. Her instinct to attack the nearest person kicked in and she quickly had her legs wrapped around Leo’s throat. Immediately she regretted the action, because the head of hair she’d grabbed to try and drag back (neck snaps tended to be more effective and caused less of a mess) felt more like course fur, and his neck didn’t go in the direction she’d been expecting. Instead, one of the other men with Leo grabbed Natasha and slammed her against the stone wall, holding her a few inches off the ground. “Leave her alone!” Bucky yelled, finally speaking up. Maybe he’d just needed to accept what she was. Maybe…  


“Don’t worry,” Leo, now in full wolf form, said, “You’re coming along, lover boy. Our honored guest might not cooperate unless she knows your life is on the line.”  


Natasha knew that Leo had threatened both their lives in a manner that meant he thought he had all the cards (and was planning to carry out just that), but the change in phrasing had her on edge. Something told her that the roll he kept going off on would best be summed up with ‘sacrifice’.  


The captives were drug up the steps and out into the cool night air, the scents from the night prior reaching Natasha’s nose. There couldn’t have been fewer than forty werewolves out there. Either it was overkill (Leo with his weird power was probably strong enough to keep Natasha under control on his own, not that she’d admit that out loud) or this was all the people he’d turned. Her chest clenched in pity and disgust as her eyes fell on the crowd of creatures pacing around restlessly. If her theory was correct, the Red Room had only had about a dozen ‘wolves under their control. The madness had to stop.  


Though if Leo’s plan was carried out, she got the feeling that wouldn’t be up to her.  


The moment Natasha and Bucky crested the hill behind the crowd (she had no idea where they were- somewhere full of green grass and tall trees. Far enough out of civilization that she was shocked her com had worked) the restless pacing ceased and a direct path appeared in the middle. Ahead of the cleared space was a platform with a single wood pole in the middle and… oh, god.  


Natasha froze, the guard behind her kicking at her legs hard enough that she fell and slid down the hill a few feet. Leo turned at the sound of her oof and glared at the guard. “Figured out what’s going happen, did you? Good. I’m terrible with surprises.”  


The small group stopped to let Natasha get back on her feet (was she dragging her feet on purpose? Her brain wasn’t working right, she had no idea what she was doing) and Bucky tried to get her attention. “What’s going on? Why’d you stop?”  


Finally back on her feet, Natasha spat to the side, getting the taste of grass out of her mouth, “A lot of the common vampire lore out there is true. Base something on fact, it’s hard not to root it in reality. Beheading, staking, holy water, crosses, all that’s truth. The thing that isn’t exactly right? Fire.” A flicker of a torch caught Natasha’s attention; there were some (what she assumed were) human shaped werewolves on the side, holding torches. If Leo was wanting an award for aesthetic, he certainly had a good case for it. “Fire doesn’t kill us, not directly. When we’re turned, our souls become corrupt. We still have them, but the soul is full of darkness. Setting a vampire on fire tears their soul out, leaving only the demon.” She nodded towards the pole, “They’re going to burn me at a stake. A soulless vampire is considered a pure sacrifice, as you’re ridding the world of evil. There’re a lot of curses where setting a vampire on fire and killing them right after is called for.” In the early days, Natasha had looked up as much about her new reality as she could. Back then, there wasn’t too much fiction to sift through. Maybe staying in the Red Room would have helped her gain a sense of self, and it had been hard on her own, but she’d made her way. The reading had been horrifying, though. Maybe she was stronger and healed faster, but she couldn’t even go out in sun light any longer without protective suits specially made.  


The thoughts of her predicament were shaken from her mind the moment she looked at Bucky, who looked utterly horrified. “They’re… they’re going to kill you?”  


She nodded solemnly. “Probably a power play, if I remember Leo well enough.”  


“Would you two shut up back there? You’ll figure out what’s going on when we start,” Leo hissed, gesturing for the pair to climb the stairs on the platform first. Natasha was already struggling against the binds they had her in, attempting to be as subtle as possible. The motions looked more like cringes and flinches. Leo glanced at her for a moment and just grinned (as best a dog could, she supposed). He’d probably written it off as nerves or fear. Good. Her first finger popped out when Bucky noticed, nudging her gently.  


One of his hands was already completely out, just enough that they could run, but the bind probably would have caused more of hindrance than help. She hadn’t seen Bucky fight in years, but she remembered his usual style; and there wasn’t a gun in sight to really help them. Natasha’s eyes started looking for a weapon of some kind that they could use. If they were going to face down an army of werewolves, they need a severe advantage.  


Leo was going off about how it was a ‘glorious day’ or something, but neither Bucky nor Natasha were listening. That was, until Natasha caught a few words that made her eyes go wide. Leo glanced back at them and grinned, “Do you get it now, Widow? Your death means that we can take whichever form we want, whenever we want. And it’s not just those of use gathered here,” he grinned that creepy dog grin he kept making, “All of our brothers and sister, whether coming from the Russian line or anywhere else in the world, will gain this blessing. And all it’ll take is the life of one traitor.”  


The crowd starting to howl and make noise that was probably joyful, but Natasha couldn’t hear around the ringing in her ear. Turning werewolves into effectively shapeshifters would have dangerous consequences. Her ability to keep the current threat down was aided with the ‘wolves only being out at night. She couldn’t imagine what full shifters would mean to the world at large.  


The realization kept Natasha frozen, her hand half out of the first bind. One of the guards grabbed for Natasha and got her half way to the pole before she felt his hand jerked off her arm and a gurgling noise. She flipped around to see Bucky with the chain of his binds wrapped around the guard’s throat before throwing the now lifeless body on the ground. There was a beat where Natasha and Bucky stared at each other before hell broke loose. A mass howl started from within the ground, and the hoard suddenly leaped at the stage. “James!” Natasha made a grab for the man who had just saved her life’s hand, dragging him towards the woods behind their current position. But the grab resulted in a dagger being pressed into her hand. The blade shined impossibly bright, and she knew immediately what it was- silver. The one thing that could kill or even really injury werewolves. “But what about-” she couldn’t get another word out, as Bucky was thrown off the stage by one of the angry ‘wolves, and Natasha was engaged with another two.  


She swung the knife with the expertise that only years in the Red Room could grant, the cuts on each of the wolves a welcome sight. Some of them backed off when they saw the blade, but it took Natasha sinking the blade into one of the creature’s throats, the beast wailing with a horribly inhuman sound before falling over and ceasing to move, before the rest of the crowd moved back from her. Maybe Leo had promised them freedom from their forced forms, but he certainly hadn’t told them just how dangerous she was. What an idiot.  


Her small shine of hope that she’d get out of there alive was dashed when a force was slammed against her back, sending the vampire onto her face and skidding off the side of the platform. She rolled over quickly, trying to get a look at Bucky, but the stage was blocking any view she could possibly hope to get. Damn.  


Her attention quickly returned to the one werewolf who was stupid enough to engage her with the silver dagger still in her hand: Leo. The… thing stared down at her for a moment before lunging, teeth gnashing, attempting to sink his monstrous fangs into her throat. Natasha caught his jaws with her hands, the blade pressed against his chin. There was a faint hissing sound as the blade burned into his flesh, but that wasn’t enough. They both knew the kind of torture someone went through in the Red Room. No, the burning skin was barely enough for him to even growl at the mild annoyance of pain. He drug his head back, moved to stand just out of her arm reach, “You’ll have to do better than that,” he snarled.  


Natasha was about to snap back, but then a faint sound had her lips turning up in a smirk. Her hyper hearing had picked up a faint whirring noise, and it could only be one thing: helicopters. Bobbi had figured out where she was. With the knowledge that reinforcements were coming soon, Natasha took a risk and flung the knife in a manner she’d learned on a few years before. Leo dodged… right into the path the dagger was flying. The blade sunk up to its hilt between two of Leo’s ribs, drawing a growl that melted into a scream before… nothing. Natasha pushed back onto her feet and dug the blade out of Leo’s ribs, savoring the moment of looking at the man who had tried to kill her. It was a childish move, but a boot to his ribs felt good. He’d put her in the worst danger she’d been in since leaving Russia. “Thanks for confirming that I made the right choice,” she hissed.  


The moment of victory was brief, however, as the sound of Bucky’s sounds of pain reached Natasha’s ears. The vampire sprinted towards where she’d last seen him, perching on the edge of the stage in horror. There were three wolves from what she saw, but it was easy to pick Bucky out. Partially because his cybernetic arm had managed to change shape with him, but also before the other two wolves were tearing at his flesh. Natasha flung herself off the stage and onto one of them, sinking the blade into the creature’s neck. The dying noises from the first ‘wolf weren’t even finished by the time she’d thrown the other one ten feet from its target. The vampire threw her knife again, this time the blade finding itself in the werewolf’s forehead.  


Natasha dropped to her knees next to Bucky, the ringing in her ears back. It took her hearing to figure out that he was still breathing, considering how dead he looked. “James?” her voice came out in a hoarse whisper, both hands resting in the fur on his chest, “James, please, I just got you back. You can leave already.”  


The sound of feet hitting the ground behind Natasha told her SHIELD had arrived, but her attention was fully on the apparently dying werewolf in front of her. He didn’t respond, didn’t move a single muscle. She could hear his heart starting to slow, and suddenly, his body shifted back into his human shape. It was hard to find an unmarked spot on his body. There were numerous pieces of skin missing, his face looked like a giant bruise, and what she could see of his ribs told her it was more than a few broken ribs down there. A hand on Natasha’s shoulders nearly startled her, but she’d recognize Bobbi’s scent anywhere, “I found him,” Natasha said, her voice taking a strangled tone, “I found him, Bobbi, but I already lost him.”  


“We’ve got medical coming,” Bobbi responded, gently helping Natasha to her feet, “They’ve worked miracles before; you know that.” Natasha nodded, dropping her head against Bobbi’s chest, “You give up hope now and you’ll never forgive yourself. I know you well enough.”  


The rest of their time around the werewolf hoard was like a blur. Natasha had been so caught up with getting to Bucky that she hadn’t realized the werewolves shifting back into their human form after death. The two wolves on Bucky had been a guard and a more grizzled looking ‘wolf- older, around Leo’s physical age. Leo was easy enough to identify, but the other one she’d killed was a kid, no older than 16. Her chest hurt, realizing what they meant for the rest of the ‘wolves. Only a few had changed back to their human shapes, the rest corralled together and looking scared. She’d never missed throwing up, but that moment made her want to hurl.  


After the place was cleaned up and the first threat of sunlight was peeking over the horizon, Bobbi shooed Natasha into one of the helicopter and under a protective sheet.  


The one nice thing about the helicopter was that getting Natasha into SHIELD was easy enough. Taking someone the front way covered in a blanket raised a few eyebrows, but the roof was much more private. A short elevator ride, and Natasha was sitting next to Bucky- still alive, still breathing, and looking like hell. But he was alive and kicking (metaphorically), and he had a red headed vampire leaning against his bed when his eyes finally opened. “Hey,” he said, voice hoarse, “Is this heaven?” Maybe it was the drugs talking or he was kidding around, but Natasha leaped up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a bruising hug, “Ow, Natalia, all of me is broken right now, ease up.”  


Natasha realized that her overzealous greeting was probably a bit much for the ‘like all his bones are broken’ (doctor’s words) patient, but she couldn’t help the goofy grin on her face, “You missed me killing Leo, you know. I’m ashamed of you for passing out. We’ll have to work on that.”  


Bucky chuckled, wincing as his ribs were jostled, “Couldn’t help it, getting tag teamed by Leo’s men- wait, what do you mean ‘work on that’? What’s going on?”  


She smiled, tugging one of his close enough to her that she could brush gentle fingers over his skin, “The world’s a different place than it was in the 50s. Governments know about people like us. SHIELD has an entire unit for supernatural creatures, and you’re looking at the leader of it. I’ve got you a position, whatever you want to do- after you’re completely healed, of course.” Maybe she was pushing things too quickly, but the threat of some kind of action taken against the werewolf had her on edge and getting the position secured as soon as possible.  


“I’ll have to get my IDs updated. Everyone thinks I died during the war,” the tone told Natasha he was joking, which set her nerves to rest. “You know, I heard them call you something else. Natasha? Was that it?”  


She nodded, leaning back in her chair, fingers still brushing over his skin, “When I defected, I changed my name. Wanted to start over. Leave Natalia in Russia, where the rest of my history was,” her eyes flickered over his face, “You’re the one person who gets to call me that now, alright? Everyone else calls me Nat or Tasha or some variant thereof.”  


It was a special prize, a gift given to someone who meant something. He was the only person who knew her that well. The only person who had seen her as the disgusting, newborn vampire that slaughtered her lover with barely a second though. His eyes told her he got it, the hand she was touching turning over and lacing their fingers together. “You’ve been alive this entire time. I can’t even imagine what you’ve seen. What you’ve been through. It feels like months since we were together, but it’s been an eternity for you. I’m sure it’s not the same for you, but I… I still love you. Nothing’s changed.”  


The heart that had stopped beating years before hurt, her mind mulling over how to oh so carefully word her next sentence. “There’ve been other people. I won’t lie about that. I’ve been all over this country, seen a lot, met and lost a lot of people.” She leaned up, tugging his hand to her lips to press kisses against the skin, “But I’ve never forgotten about you. I tried moving on, I really did, but you were all I wanted. I guess it took thinking you dead proved to me how much I loved you. Love you. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.”  


The statement hunt in the air on all its weight before Natasha leaned up and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s lips. The action was an attempt at being chaste, but he grabbed the back of her head and kissed her like a man who wanted to drown in her lips and never come up for air. They probably would have stayed like that until one of them ran out of breath (which, if memory served Natasha right, was a very long time), but a cough from the doorway had Natasha jerking away like a teenager that had just been caught in the liquor cabinet. Bobbi chuckled from the doorway, “Sorry to interrupt, but the director wants to speak to the one of you who can walk,” she said with grin on her face.  


Natasha glared at her partner before giving Bucky’s hand a squeeze, “I’ll be back. We can talk more about this later.” Bucky nodded as she got up, following Bobbi down the hall towards the bank of elevators. “How long were you standing there? Because if you say a few minutes, Morse, I’m go-”  


“I was standing there for the kissing. Don’t know if anyone told you, Tash, but he’s got a collapsed lung. Making out is probably near the bottom of the list of acceptable activities. Just over sex, I’m assuming.”  


The comment made Natasha choke, but she recovered with a cough, “You know how I feel about him. I’d appreciate you not mocking me about it.”  


Bobbi threw an arm around Natasha’s shoulders, dragging in for one of those half hugs the vampire hated, “I’m not mocking, I’m poking fun. Think about your last few significant others, would you? You’ve got the masochistic vigilante, the muscle bond lunk head, and a man so stupid he married me instead of you. Just be careful, alright? Not because I think he’ll hurt you, but because his world is backwards. You nearly kill him in the 50s, and he wakes up in the 21st century. Boy's got some culture shock, and he needs you to help him through that.”  


Natasha dropped her gaze as they entered the elevator, chewing on her lower lip, “What’s Hill want to talk to me about?” she finally said as the elevator started moving. Topic shift, a classic move of someone who was tired of talking about her werewolf ex-boyfriend who just took a 50 year nap.  


“Some kind of task force. Turns out the ‘wolves that were gathered around yesterday were mostly kids. Street kids, to be specific. The kind that no one really misses when they vanish and the city doesn’t really care about? Anyways, we can’t put them back on the street, but we also can’t release them to shelters knowing what they are. For their own safety as well as other’s. Hill thought you might like her alternative of keeping them around as assets. Train them, put them up in some special quarters. Gives us an opportunity to see how the werewolf gene develops and changes, how each one is different. We’ve never had this many of a single known species cooperative since supernaturals ended up on SHIELD’s radar.” She looked at Natasha’s pensive face, “They won’t be agents, just assets. If some want to join up when they’re adults, they can. They get food, shelter, a safe place to stay, as well as a werewolf with his powers under control and a vampire who’s got her bloodlust contained.” Bobbi smiled, but the look faded, “You two start doing the kinky teacher thing, I’m quitting.”  


Natasha’s eyes lit up as the idea finally made its way through her mind. She’d expected something far worse, but teaching? She grinned, “Guess I’m here to tell Hill she’s got a great idea, then.”  


Six months later, the program was going better than SHIELD could have hoped. Once word of a program for lost supernatural kids got out, the dozens turned to hundreds, and a completely separate dorm was set up. The program had its heart breaking moments, though, including when a girl not much older than 10 showed up with red eyes full of bloodlust and fangs that had already tasted too much. But Natasha was there to hold the girl as she cried and promise that things were going to get better, and that there was no shame in crying.  


When they weren’t training and teaching the new crop of kids, Natasha and Bucky were off on missions together. Their official SHIELD team nickname of ‘ghosts’ was both a joke and a dead serious attribute. They both should have been long dead, had they been human, but that part of them had long been left in Russia. Sometimes, Natasha missed the parts of being human she’d been forced to surrender, but then she’d look up and see Bucky and push the thoughts from her mind. Bobbi had always tried to get her to see the blessing in her curse, but it’d taken seeing Bucky again to get what the ‘blessing’ really was.

**Author's Note:**

> When I started writing this, I couldn't believe this was the AU I settled on for the year. I've already got notes written up for a possible sequel, probably for next year's mini bang.
> 
> And a big thank you to mauing for the lovely companion art piece! http://mauing.tumblr.com/post/142355075887/natasha-dropped-to-her-knees-next-to-bucky-the


End file.
